


words you could never say (they hold the loudest tones)

by glaeson



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaeson/pseuds/glaeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra probably didn't mean it, or maybe she did, but to Asami it seemed like a promise. <em>Always</em>. Like she'd never abandon her. Like there isn't a day that goes by wherein Korra doesn't think of her. </p><p>The possibilities knock on the door of Asami's heart. </p><p>Now that Korra's written back, maybe, <em>maybe</em>, there's hope. A faint light beginning to come into view at the end of a long, dark tunnel. </p><p>Yet another take on what Asami's reaction might have been to Korra's letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	words you could never say (they hold the loudest tones)

**Author's Note:**

> yes ok so i know that this idea of the letter and how asami woud react to it has been overdone but i can't help it? she is such a cheesy girlfriend someone stop her 
> 
> also yes i am posting this here because the fic competition sounds cute so yay
> 
> title from vanessa carlton's 'fools like me'

_It's easier to tell you about this stuff. I don't think they'd understand._

The words race through Asami's mind over, and over, and over. 

She's lying in her bed alone—God knows what time it is—and staring at darkness, sleep unwilling to visit her, thanks to the letter. She pinches her eyes shut. If she tries hard enough, she can almost hear Korra whisper the words to her. 

The letter still rests in Asami's right palm. She's read it so many times, she's probably memorised every stroke of ink Korra made on the paper. How her t's have longer tails than what is usual, and how her periods are dark and deep, as if she had slammed the pen onto the sheet. 

But what surprised Asami was how the Avatar had signed the letter. 

Asami would have assumed that she would have signed it with _yours_ or _sincerely_ ; Professional greetings. Maybe even _love_. But what she said in Asami's letter. . .

_Always,_   
_Korra._

Korra probably didn't mean it, or maybe she did, but to Asami it seemed like a promise. Always. Like she'd never abandon her. Like there isn't a day that goes by wherein Korra doesn't think of her. 

The possibilities knock on the door of Asami's heart. 

Now that Korra's written back, maybe, _maybe_ , there's hope. A faint light beginning to come into view at the end of a long, dark tunnel. 

But the doubt still remains. 

The young engineer's mind begins to circle restlessly. Why'd it take so long for her to write back? Why didn't she say anything about coming back to Republic City? _Is_ she coming back to the city?

A million questions loom at the back of Asami's head, but her body eventually succumbs to the exhaustion, and she falls asleep, the image of Korra’s ‘ _always’_ seared onto the backs of her eyelids.

 

—

 

Asami doesn't report for work the next day. 

Instead, she walks aimlessly around Republic City's fashion district, seeing if retail therapy could be the solution to getting Korra off of her mind. 

She buys a number of clothes and shoes, some of which don't even appeal to Asami—she just needed a distraction, a relief, _something._ But it hadn't worked. Korra still stood in every corner of Asami's head, creeping into her every thought. _Oh, Korra would love this; this would look amazing on her_ , she would think to herself. 

She spots a store out of the corner of her eye. It didn't have much customers, so Asami could clearly see what they were selling. Charms. Bracelets, necklaces, rings. That sort of stuff. 

Asami gets an idea. 

She enters the small shop, chimes signaling her arrival. A woman, likely in her early thirties, greets Asami with a warm smile. “Hi! What can I do for you?”

Asami returns the smile. “Hello. You wouldn't, um, have necklaces that have glass bottle pendants, would you?” Asami knew they were fairly common; waterbenders who would travel a lot would keep an amount of their element in necklaces like those. 

“Oh!” the woman exclaims. “Yes, yes, I have just the thing.”

She heads to the back of the shop and brings out a box that contained all sorts of the necklace that Asami was looking for. Asami opts for a simple one: it had a silver chain, and the bottle was was the right size for her purposes. 

She thanks the woman, pays, and heads home. 

 

—

 

Korra's letter sits on Asami's nightstand. Beside it were scattered sheets of paper filled with words Asami could never say. 

_Korra, come home—_

_Korra, please, we need you,_ I _need you—_

_Korra, that 'big contract for the city's infrastructure' was a park in your name—_

_Korra, I miss you so much and everyday I keep hoping I'll see you—_

And most recently, the reply to Korra's letter she'd tried to come up with. 

_Korra, I'll wait until I turn into dust._

Asami sighs. It sounds ridiculous, like something Bolin would say in a fit of emotion.

But she can't help but stare at it, thinking about the gravity of its truth. 

She shakes her head and takes it, along with the other unfinished letters, crumples them up into a ball and tosses them to the other side of her bedroom. 

She picks up Korra's letter. Asami, being the brilliant engineer that she is, manages to fold it into a piece of paper small enough to fit through the mouth of the pendant she bought earlier that day. Once she's done that, she puts the necklace around her neck. 

The pendant rests just above Asami's heart. 

 

—

 

A year passes, and not once had Asami taken the necklace off. Not while asleep, not when showering, not even when she'd work at dangerous construction sites. The chain had been worn out, the silver turning into a dull grey that was even black in some spots, but she didn't mind that. What was important, anyway, was the bottle and its content. 

She'd found herself clutching it through her clothes whenever she was uneasy or anxious, as if the letter had provided some sort of emotional stability. She hadn't noticed that it had become a habit until she was told so. (“You nervous?” “No? What? Why would I be nervous?” “You've got your hand curled up over your chest. You always do that when you're nervous.” “. . .Oh.”)

Mako's talking to her after the opening ceremony for the city's railway system. He's grown more into a man now. Broader shoulders, straighter spine. Asami thinks back to when they were in a relationship—it feels like it was eons ago, now. 

“Beifong told me that Korra’s coming in tonight.”

The pendant suddenly becomes heavier against Asami's chest.

“I can't wait to see her.”

 

—

 

Asami can't seem to understand. 

Why is everyone leaving?

Her mother, brutally taken from her when she was too young to even know what that kind of pain felt like. 

Her father, who had raised her, who had taught her everything she knows, turning his back on everything she believed in. 

And just when she thought that she'd never learn to love again, Korra comes along, all fire and spirit, and once again Asami feels like she can truly count on someone. 

But this was the worst. She wasn't taken, like her mother, and she didn’t forcefully leave, like her father. 

Korra tiptoed away, a single step at a time, and while Asami thought she was still there, she had already shut the door. 

Asami hasn't stopped crying since she reached home.

She removes the chain from her neck, and puts it in her palm. It was her little way of answering to the ' _always_ ' Korra signed the letter with—Asami’s own always. All Asami needed to do was breathe and she'd feel Korra’s promise against her heart.

She stares at the piece of paper inside the pendant, as if Korra would magically appear in front of her if she looks at it long enough. But minutes pass, and all that's in the room is Asami and her tears. 

She opens the drawer beside her bed, and shoves the necklace inside. 

But when she lies down and tries to fall asleep, she swears she can still feel the bottle resting on her chest. 


End file.
